


Wormwood

by HuntedHart



Series: Evergreen [1]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Enemies to Lovers, Fantasy, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrations, Love Bites, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Non-Graphic Violence, Play Fighting, Porn With Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Trans Character, Vampire Bites, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntedHart/pseuds/HuntedHart
Summary: Sonic is a vampire that refuses to hunt, despite the hunger that gnaws at his mind and body. Shadow is a vampire hunter who’s slain monsters, but doesn’t discriminate between the killers and the kind. When the two meet, neither will walk away the same.
Relationships: Shadow the Hedgehog/Sonic the Hedgehog
Series: Evergreen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887091
Comments: 28
Kudos: 138





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading a lot of vampire fic lately and couldn't resist the urge to make one myself. Sometimes you just gotta write vampire romance. Except this chapter doesn't have much romance. I'll get there eventually. Anyway, vampire Sonic's predicament is inspired in part by tumblr user sonighty's vampire AU! The idea of Sonic fighting against his predatory urges even as he wastes away from hunger is *chef kiss* choice. I've got a whole bunch of ideas planned for this AU, so I hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> Like the story but don't want explicit sexual content? Read Wormwood on fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13676028/1/Wormwood

Sonic was being followed. By who, he couldn’t imagine. What kind of fool would risk being near him in this sorry state? Who would dare to seek him out? Sonic didn’t intend to get an answer, but he had little choice in the matter. Hunger left him unbearably slow, his legs barely able to support his own weight. Still, he kept moving. Still, a stranger hounded his steps.

The temple had been empty for ages by the time Sonic entered it. A haze of dust greeted him as he dragged himself over the threshold. The prayers carved on either side of the door did nothing to deter him, neither was he intimidated by the idols on either side of the altar. Their stone was cracked, and one was missing a hand; they did not seem to care what sort of creature was passing through their sanctuary. With any luck, Sonic’s unwanted shadow would not know this. With any luck, they would assume that the crumbling temple and all within it were poison to him. In truth, the sunlight that would soon filter through broken windows was far more of a threat. Once day broke, Sonic would have no choice but to wait here until dusk. Once, the idea of being trapped inside for an entire day would have haunted his most hated nightmares. He had other things to worry about these days.

An exploration of the church revealed cobbled stairs leading downward toward safety. The thickening darkness of the windowless cellar was a relief; the damp smell he would just have to deal with. Sonic’s eyes adjusted effortlessly to the pitch-black, but found nothing more exciting than a threadbare rug bundled up in one corner. That, at least, was not nothing. It meant he wouldn’t have to sleep on the cold stone.

A wiser hedgehog might have debated the point of sleeping at all. Sonic technically didn’t need to, not anymore. But it was among the simple pleasures he’d enjoyed while he was alive, one of the few he could still cling to. And with hunger making his bones feel like lead, it was easy to convince Sonic’s body that it needed to rest. Sleep couldn’t ease the exhaustion that was his constant companion, but it was better than staring at the ceiling as he waited for the meager comfort of night. He folded the rug in two, one layer between him and the stone, the other draped over him. It was damp, worn through in places, and Sonic didn’t care. He pulled the rug over his head and curled into a ball, making himself as comfortable as his makeshift burrow would allow.

Sonic couldn’t sleep. An inexplicable feeling of anticipation kept his nerves buzzing, alert and wholly aware of how his body ached. He was waiting for something, without knowing what. He hated waiting. Sleeping made the endless hours bearable, and now he was denied even that. After tossing and turning for god knows how long, Sonic was thoroughly cocooned in the rug, staring at the ceiling just as he had feared. He found himself humming a little tune, just to fill the oppressive silence. It resembled an old church song, the lyrics of which had been echoing around Sonic’s head since his first step over the temple threshold. Where he didn’t quite remember the melody, he made something up. He was never particularly religious in life, but some of his friends had been, and bits and pieces of old hymns remained splintered in his memory. He didn’t mind, so long as the tune made the darkness seem a little less deep.

The sound died in Sonic’s throat as he heard footsteps in the temple above. Oh yes, he’d almost forgotten why he’d hidden away in the cellar at all. Hiding, another thing he’d never been especially good at.

Nervous anticipation flooded Sonic’s body as he listened to the stranger explore the church. It made his stomach turn. He wasn’t sure if he would pass out or start clawing at the walls, but he could not bear to remain still any longer. Sonic untangled himself from the rug as footsteps approached the top of the stairs. He’d never seen the person following him up close. He knew that they were a Mobian, no larger than he was. Livelier than he was. Already he could catch the scent of hot blood rushing through a living body. Sonic scrubbed drool away from his chin, feeling panic and desire, which fueled even further panic, well up within him. He knew that this stranger was courageous, relentless. He wondered if they had even the foggiest idea of what they were getting into.

They would soon find out. A wiser hedgehog would hide as the stranger descended the staircase. Sonic stood still as a corpse, his eyes locked on the face of his unwanted shadow.

They were a hedgehog, like him. Rough around the edges, but not sickly or gaunt like Sonic was. The other hedgehog carried themselves with grim determination, but not a shred of fear. By most standards, they were clearly a force to be reckoned with. The occasional scar told of battles fought and survived, while the shotgun slung across their back indicated that they planned to survive a few more. Emerald flames surrounded one raised hand, demonstrating powers far beyond the average Mobian. Sonic was not the average Mobian. Did they know this? Was their confidence justified by real power over creatures of the night? Was this stranger a fool out of their depth, or was Sonic staring the end of his undeath in the face?

They paused in the middle of the stairway, the light from their magical flame setting Sonic’s eyes aglow. He stepped forward without thinking, moving deeper into the light. Sonic knew, distantly, that his unnatural hunger was written plainly across his face, that he was still drooling. He couldn’t help it. He already imagined that he could hear their heart beating.

“I’ve been looking for you,” the stranger said, low and calm. The flame on their palm was all that moved.

“Congratulations,” Sonic said. His voice was rough with disuse. “You found me. Now go away. It’s the middle of the day and way past my bedtime.”

“You’ll rest soon enough,” they said, so melodramatically that Sonic felt a spark of amusement through the hunger that devoured each waking thought. He laughed, although it sounded more like a cough.

“Are you really going to try to kill me?” he said. The stranger’s answer was a hunting knife drawn from under their jacket. More reliable than the shotgun in close quarters. Quieter. It wouldn’t get the job done. Then again, neither would the shotgun. Still, Sonic kept an eye on the flickering green fire. “Ever tried to kill a vampire before? It takes more than a kitchen knife, for one thing.”

“I’m not a fool.” They resumed their measured stride down the stairs. Sonic might have been the real predator, but they looked for all the world like a mountain lion searching for the right moment to pounce. “You won’t be the first bloodsucker I’ve exterminated. You won’t be the last, either.”

A wiser vampire would be disturbed, would read the sincerity in the hunter’s expression and know that they were every bit as dangerous as they professed to be. Sonic was not a wiser vampire, because the word ‘bloodsucker’ was ricocheting throughout his skull, drowning out any other thought. Ironic, how many years had he spent avoiding the living? How many long nights had he cowered in the darkness, torn by vicious hunger, but far more afraid of becoming the monster he felt like? Now this stranger had him cornered, not a wilting piece of prey, but begging for a fight. Sonic was rapidly forgetting why it would be wrong to give them exactly what they had come for.

“Don’t I get to know your name?” Sonic said. “Seems polite, if you’re really going to be the last face I ever see.”

They seemed to consider it, although the resolute glower never faltered. “Shadow,” they finally said.

That too startled a laugh from Sonic. It tore from his throat, high pitched and unhinged. “You know, that was the name I was calling you in my head. Since you’ve been following me and all that. Wild coincidence, isn’t it? I’d say it’s nice to meet you, Shadow, but…”

Shadow reached the bottom of the stairs, and now Sonic was sure that he could hear their heart pounding. He was ravenous, and it showed on his face, his posture, every muscle in his body tensed with the effort of not burying his teeth into hot flesh. Sonic did not realize he was backing away until his quills brushed the cellar wall. It took a supernatural force of will to gather words from his memory and force his lips and tongue to move. “Run away,” he said.

He supposed it was too much to hope for, but it felt right to give them one last chance. They didn’t take it, but when Shadow leaped towards him, Sonic didn’t feel nearly as guilty about fighting back. Shadow swung their knife with the skill of a fencing master and speed that Sonic would have been impressed by even if he was not starving. His body ached in protest as he evaded the flurry of blows. The thrill of a real fight allowed him to move more quickly than he had in years, but in the back of his mind he remembered that he no longer had reserves of energy to draw on. When the adrenaline faded away, so too would the last of Sonic’s strength.

He pushed those thoughts away and lashed out, trying to wrestle the knife from Shadow’s grasp. Up close, the scent of unshed blood was dizzying. Sonic’s senses fled from him, overwhelmed by the heat of Shadow’s body, the first living body he’d touched in a terrible long time. Sonic forgot, for a moment, that he was in danger. Then the knife raked across his chest.

The wound didn’t bleed, but it burned as if acid had been poured into Sonic’s open heart. He gritted his teeth to choke off the shriek of pain that welled up from his core. Sonic didn’t fully understand the magic that made his long-dead body move and think and crave, but he knew that steel, no matter how sharp, couldn’t dispel it. Whatever enchantment had been woven into Shadow’s weapons was made to put an end to Sonic’s restless afterlife.

Clarity returned like a plunge into frigid water, and with it came a renewed purpose. Fighting for his life felt as natural to Sonic as breathing. His hand caught Shadow’s wrist before they could draw back for a finishing blow. The living hedgehog was stronger than Sonic had ever been, but that was hardly anything new. Sonic moved along with their momentum, twisting them off balance and slamming their back to the cold stone wall. The knife remained aloft, clenched tight in Shadow’s fist, but they had no leverage with which to break Sonic’s grip. They tried, for a brief moment, and Sonic felt every muscle in their body strain. He realized, quite suddenly, that he could feel Shadow’s heart pound against his chest. Their pulse was quick, frantic, spirited. Sonic licked his lips and realized that he was still drooling.

Shadow planted their free hand against Sonic’s chest and shoved. Each inch of space between them ached. Sonic parted his lips, not sure if he intended to plead or finally sink his teeth in. Then the hum of electricity between them suddenly became quite literal. The energetic buzz set Sonic’s nerves alight, grating against his being like two dissonant songs. That was his only warning before green light leaped from Shadow’s hand, and the resulting thunderclap sent Sonic sprawling.

The world pitched and wheeled until he found himself flat on his back, staring unseeing at the ceiling. Sonic’s body jerked in time with the emerald energy that sparked around him. Shadow took a moment to catch their breath, but didn’t dare hesitate any longer. Sonic was distantly aware of the hunter kneeling over him, knife raised, cold red eyes raking over his throat, the wound on his chest. When the knife came down one last time, Sonic would not get back up.

He was also aware of the pain of magic saturating him, overwhelming his senses and sending his thoughts into dizzying spirals. The initial blast had felt like diving into the surface of the sun. But while Shadow’s knife had been cleansing fire, purging Sonic along with the darkness, this was a different kind of burn. Already Sonic felt the dissonance resolving, individual notes shifting into harmony with a song he didn’t know he was singing. He clenched and unclenched his fists, felt weakness flee from his body. He did not feel alive; perhaps he never would. For the first time, however, Sonic did not feel like an empty husk. No, he was something altogether new—new, ferocious, unstoppable.

Sonic caught Shadow’s arm as they drove the knife downward. He leaped to his feet, lifting himself and the hunter as if unbound by something so petty as gravity. Sonic hurled Shadow over his head, sending them crashing into an ancient shelf. The decayed wood snapped and crumpled under their weight. A few dusty wine bottles, already empty and cracked, shattered. Shadow tumbled to a floor littered with shards of glass. The knife skidded across the stone, and Shadow scrambled for their gun; too late, as the scent of fresh blood overwhelmed the last vestige of Sonic’s sound mind.

It was like being struck by lightning when Sonic finally attacked. The breath was knocked out of Shadow’s lungs as Sonic pounced, pinning them between solid stone and a ravenous corpse. The shotgun was pressed awkwardly beneath Shadow’s shoulder, until Sonic clawed it free and tossed it unceremoniously out of reach. Shadow thrashed until Sonic caught their throat in one hand, their wrist in the other. Sonic did not squeeze tight enough to choke, but Shadow stopped breathing nonetheless as Sonic fixed his gaze on the blood slicking their fur. The cuts were shallow, barely worth noticing. But everywhere glass had sliced through Shadow’s skin, it spilled blood as red as rubies and infinitely more precious. Sonic didn’t notice the terror that dawned on Shadow’s face, barely heard them whisper, “Please…”

Sonic dragged his tongue over Shadow’s wrist. Their pulse was racing, quick as a rabbit’s. The flavor that exploded across Sonic’s senses was better than sex, better than heaven. It cast years of agonizing hunger in brutal clarity, and it promised satisfaction at long last. Sonic couldn’t remember why he had ever chosen to wait, but he knew that his perseverance made this moment sweeter. He pressed his lips against Shadow’s wrist, feeling where their pulse was strongest. Then he bit down, and Shadow’s strangled cry sounded like music.

Relief was immediate and decadent. Sonic’s world faded until nothing existed outside of Shadow’s blood flowing over his tongue, Shadow’s heart pounding beneath his palm, Shadow’s protests turning into feeble whimpers. In his right mind, Sonic would be terrified by the specter of drinking them dry, but such concerns were drowned out by the joy of the feast.

It was only when the worst of his hunger was sated that Sonic began to collect himself. He licked over the mark left by his fangs, tiny, precise wounds that closed as if by magic. If not for the bruise forming under dark, bloodstained fur, Shadow might wonder if they had dreamed this whole encounter. Shadow, of course, was no longer in full possession of their wits. It was difficult to allocate blame between the blood loss and the venom humming through their veins, making them wonder why they ever wished to fight in the first place. Guilt clawed at the edges of Sonic’s mind, but it was barely a whisper compared to the bliss he now felt. He softened his grip, and Shadow was docile as a lamb as Sonic gathered them into his arms. He reasoned that his lap was more comfortable than the dusty floor. Selfishly, he wanted to enjoy their warmth a little while longer.

“How do you feel?” Sonic said. If Shadow noticed the worry creeping into his voice, it didn’t seem to concern them.

“It hurt less than I thought it would.” Shadow’s tone was soft, matter-of-fact. It was not entirely unlike the way they spoke when informing Sonic that he was about to die. Their honesty was a balm to Sonic’s frayed nerves, at least until they added, “Am I dying?”

“No! No, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Shadow had not sounded afraid, was hardly capable of fear while ensnared in Sonic’s thrall. The same could not be said for Sonic himself. “Why, are you dizzy? Do you need to lie down again?”

Shadow shook their head, their brows pinched together. They appeared confused, but not angry, as if trying to solve a puzzle after a few too many drinks. Their eyes remained alert, their hands steady, and Sonic breathed a sigh of relief.

“No, you’re not dying. You’re just gonna be out of it for a while. That’s normal, just part of the package. I’ll stay with you until it wears off.” The words slipped out of him without thinking, but Sonic didn’t take them back. He knew that in a few hours, Shadow would return to their senses and to their goal of trying to exterminate him. He also knew that he couldn’t bear to leave them alone while they were defenseless. Sonic’s fate was sealed when Shadow’s expression smoothed into perfect tranquility. They nodded a wordless thanks and tucked their head against Sonic’s shoulder. Sonic remembered what it was like to be enthralled, to believe wholeheartedly that the predator that devoured him was worthy of his trust. Guilt welled up again, louder this time. Sonic pushed it away.

Sonic didn’t intend to sleep, but he was lulled by the steady beat of Shadow’s heart, and woken by the sound of a shotgun being cocked. He didn’t startle, because he wasn’t surprised. Seeing Shadow’s gun pointed at his chest felt like the universe was tilting back into balance. Righteous fury made Shadow seem taller. Their eyes were alight, their jaw set in a grim scowl. But although their finger was on the trigger, the muzzle lined up for a killing shot, they stood very still. Sonic waited, silent, unsure what to say to the one who had given him the first glimmer of hope in many long years, the one who could end those years with a twitch of their hand. Sonic didn’t want to die. Neither did he want mercy. But he didn’t care enough to beg Shadow for either.

Instead of his eternal rest, Shadow gave Sonic this. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I didn’t want to,” Sonic said, even though both of them had already known. A pained grimace crossed Shadow’s face, and they turned away before Sonic could determine what it signified. Hatred? Pity? Perhaps he’d never find out. Shadow departed without another word, leaving Sonic alone, once more, in the dark.

When Sonic left the church, Shadow’s taste lingered like a song he couldn’t get out of his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadow refuses to give up the hunt, but if they failed to defeat Sonic while he was weary and starving, how can they stand a chance the second time around? Maybe not standing a chance is the fun of it, especially now that Sonic's gotten a taste for their blood, and Shadow's gotten a taste for his venom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was supposed to be one chapter. Oops. But I've got a more detailed outline now, and I'm VERY excited for what's to come. This chapter features a much livelier Sonic than before, along with some action, some fluff, and increasingly unbearable romantic tension. Hope y'all enjoy!

It was to Sonic’s delight that he realized he was still being followed. He should not have been surprised. Shadow didn’t seem like the type of hedgehog to timidly slink away when they lost a fight, neither could they allow a predator like Sonic to roam free so near the homes of the living. Such thoughts set off an uneasy cocktail of guilt and giddy excitement. Sonic had walked with a spring in his step ever since their fateful meeting, but it had been a week, and he found himself growing hungry. His stomach twisted at the memory of Shadow’s blood on his tongue. His heart sank to remember the fear in their eyes. Each time he sought shelter for the day, he lay awake for hours, waiting with breathless excitement to hear approaching footsteps.

On a clear night when the moon cast dappled light between the boughs of evergreen, Sonic’s patience was rewarded. He wondered, briefly, if Shadow intended to challenge him at night, when moonlight reflected eerily off Sonic’s eyes and he did not have to fear the scorching sun. Perhaps Shadow had simply miscalculated, or perhaps they were more foolishly courageous than Sonic knew. He didn’t truly care, because from the first gunshot Sonic’s body was singing with the thrill of a challenge. Shadow, to their credit, did not let awe or horror show on their face as Sonic dodged a blast of buckshot with liquid ease. They could be forgiven for wondering if they had accidentally tracked down the wrong vampire, because this one could not be the withered husk they had fought a week prior. Sonic’s foot tapped and hands fidgeted, fueled by more energy than his body could possibly contain. The sharp points of his fangs gave his grin a rakish edge. 

“I knew I didn’t scare you off for good,” Sonic purred.

Shadow scowled as if they had stepped in something truly repellent. They leveled their weapon for another shot. “This will be less painful if you hold still,” they said.

“It won’t hurt at all unless you learn how to aim,” Sonic said, then leaped out of the way as Shadow pulled the trigger. Silver-laced lead buried itself into tree trunks behind where Sonic had been standing. Sonic himself was unhurt, and now that he had started to really move, he had no intention of stopping. Little more than a blur in the pale moonlight, Sonic dashed in a wide circle until he was closing in on Shadow once more. Without thinking twice, he pounced, and his only regret was that the fight would be over too quickly to have any real fun. Then he was forced to twist in midair, dodging another gunshot, and he landed in a crouch a short distance away. Fine, he took it back. Shadow must be a damn good shot in order to have a prayer of hitting Sonic mid-sprint. Then again, Sonic hadn’t been hit yet.

“Oh, that one was close!” he said. “Better keep tryin’. Here, I’ll give you a freebie.” He rose to his feet, holding out his hands and entirely failing to appear innocent. He thought he saw real anger shining through the cracks of Shadow’s haughty sneer. Sonic could get addicted to these meetings if all he accomplished was making Shadow lose their temper. He helpfully pointed to the center of his chest, where a target should be. He was then taken wholly off guard when emerald sparks leaped from Shadow’s fingertips and down the barrel of the gun.

This time, buckshot was accompanied by a wave of verdant energy that Sonic failed to dodge. The pellets scattered harmlessly, but magic slammed into him, sending him sprawling across the forest floor. For a moment, all he could do was writhe, like he was tangled in a net woven from live wires. This time, Shadow didn’t wait for Sonic to get accustomed to the energy flooding his system. They leaped onto him, and soon a familiar blade was pressed against Sonic’s throat.

It seemed that neither of them had thought this through. Shadow grabbed a handful of Sonic’s quills, yanking his head back just in time to learn exactly why their magic had backfired so spectacularly the last time. They might as well have shoved their knife in an electric socket. Their own energy, transformed and magnified by Sonic’s body, overwhelmed them just as effectively. Sonic was the first to recover, and didn’t hesitate to snatch the knife out of Shadow’s grasp. He hurled it in a random direction, and the blade lodged in the trunk of an ancient pine. It would have been easy to restrain Shadow while they were doubled over with sparks flying from their quills. The thought never occurred to him.

Sonic didn’t have to wait long. It took only a few seconds for Shadow to get themself back under control. They fumbled for their knife, then startled to realize that neither it nor Sonic remained in arm’s reach. They scurried to their feet, once more leveling the shotgun at Sonic’s chest. He wondered how many rounds Shadow could fire before needing to reload. If they kept meeting like this, he was bound to find out sooner or later. “Hey, where’d you learn magic?” Sonic said, feeling not entirely unlike a blind date asking about their life story.

“Enough talk,” Shadow snapped. Fine. Sonic could work with that.

The shotgun needed to be reloaded after six shots. As soon as Shadow made the mistake of reaching for another magazine, Sonic was on them. He might have taken a moment or two to gloat, but Shadow had made it quite clear that they were not in the mood for chatter. Truth be told, Sonic wasn’t either, certainly not once he was reminded of how Shadow felt squirming beneath him.

Hunger clawed against his patience, but Sonic barely noticed it compared to the hunger that had ruined him until he met Shadow. He was enraptured, instead, by the sight of them. Sonic straddled Shadow’s chest, pinning their wrists in either hand. This close, it was easy to get distracted by every disheveled quill, every scar where their fur had grown back uneven. They were stunning, even flat on their back in the dirt, perhaps especially so. Their eyes had a thrall of their own; Sonic had always liked red, but the color was growing on him more and more these days. For the first time, Sonic started to wonder if he was in too deep. He didn’t let himself think about that for long. Instead he grinned, all menace and glee.

“Better luck next time,” Sonic said. He meant for it to be another taunt, but his voice dropped an octave or two and rumbled like a growl in his throat. Once, the sight of Sonic’s fangs had made Shadow go ashen with fright. Now, Sonic was sure he saw the first hint of a rosy flush on their cheeks. They avoided his eyes, but didn’t cower, didn’t beg. Perhaps they still clung to stubborn pride. Perhaps they remembered that what came next was the fun part.

Sonic didn’t need to kiss along Shadow’s throat until he found their pulse, but like hell was that going to stop him. He felt more than he heard Shadow gasp, then hold their breath. Cruelly, his first bite was too light to draw blood, but it made Shadow shudder like they were in agony. If Sonic were more patient, less hungry, he would gladly tease Shadow for hours, just like this. He had never been especially patient.

This time, Sonic kept enough of his wits to feel Shadow change as his venom took hold. The defiant tension eased out of their body as if they were falling into bed at the end of a long day. Ragged gasps gave way to whimpers that they no longer cared to bite back. Pain and pleasure seemed to blur together; Sonic had hazy memories of being on the other end of this exchange. Those memories made his heart twist with an emotion too painful to examine directly, but he knew how good it could feel. Shadow was wound as tight as a drum, and so the feeling of their muscles relaxed and body limp seemed impossibly precious. A moan slipped out from between Shadow’s lips, and Sonic felt as if he was witnessing something sacred.

When Sonic was satisfied, his body pleasantly warm, drowsy like the late evening after a feast, he sat back and breathed a luxuriant sigh. His grip on Shadow was lax, but they didn’t struggle. When Sonic released one of their wrists, they set the newly-freed hand on Sonic’s knee, stroking innocently and absentmindedly. If Sonic’s heart could still beat, it would be fluttering at a dizzying pace. He grinned, soft and almost bashful, scrubbing a trickle of blood from his chin.

“Thanks,” he said. “I really needed that.” He wasn’t sure if he was referring to the meal or the company.

Shadow’s eyes flickered from Sonic’s face to the forest canopy and the dark sky above. “It’s almost morning,” they said.

It took a moment for the realization to cut through the well-fed haze of Sonic’s thoughts. He looked up and searched for the moon; sure enough, it was dipping toward the horizon, already paling with dawn’s first light. “Damn,” he said. “Hate to love and leave you, but it looks like I’ve got places to be.”

He didn’t have places to be. With any luck, he could find a cave nearby. If that failed, the hollow of a tree would do in a pinch. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Shadow like this, but they would be furious if the sun killed Sonic before they got the chance. He stood, reluctance making him slow. Shadow grabbed his wrist, and Sonic whined like a child being asked to leave a candy shop.

“There’s a hunting lodge on the other side of the ridge,” Shadow said. “If you carry me, we can get there before sunrise.”

Sonic’s dazzling grin rivaled the sun itself. He lifted Shadow with ease, and for the time being they were quite happy to sink into his arms like a wilting damsel (after retrieving their knife). Shadow draped their arms around Sonic’s shoulders, and Sonic almost tripped when he felt their lips pressed against his throat. Well, he supposed that was only fair.

The lodge loomed on the edge of the ridge, a comforting sight against the predawn sky. The door was unlocked, and Sonic nudged it open with his foot without putting Shadow down. He paused in the doorway, ears pricked for any sign of company, but Shadow said, “It’s the off-season. I’m the only one here.”

“Must be vampire season then,” Sonic said with a grin. As they said, the lodge was empty but not abandoned. A trace of dust lingered on the furniture, the fireplace was gray and still, and heavy curtains were drawn across all but one of the windows. The quiet seemed patient, but eager, as if the empty lodge welcomed anyone who walked through the door. Sonic kicked the door closed.

The main room straddled the line between cramped and cozy. The scuffed wood floor was covered by a heavy rug, and two plush chairs were arranged around the fireplace. Sonic placed Shadow down in one of them. The blanket draped over the seat was made with real fur, thick and soft, and Shadow sank into it like they’d never get up again. Their gaze was fixed on Sonic, expectant and pliant. Wrapped up in his thrall, there was nothing Sonic could do that Shadow wouldn’t submit to, as if that had been what they wanted all along. The thought made Sonic shrink away, and Shadow’s face darkened with concern. “Where are you going?” they said, with such longing in their voice that Sonic felt dizzy.

“Just drawing the curtains,” he said hurriedly, grateful for the excuse. “You know, so I don’t burn to double-death. I’ll… I’ll be back. Just a second.” Without waiting for a response, Sonic retreated to the open window. He lingered there for a moment, one hand pressed to the glass in an attempt to steady himself. The view from the ridge looked out over miles of pine forest, the hills draped in a blanket of woven evergreen needles. Sonic was forced to squint against the early sunrise, and when the light became too bright for him to withstand, he drew the curtain shut.

“You never told me your name.” Shadow’s voice, however soft, seemed to ring in Sonic’s ears. It damn near startled him out of his skin. He turned to see Shadow resting their arms on the back of the chair, watching Sonic with thinly-veiled impatience. The irritated flick of their ears seemed right somehow, and Sonic was comforted at least to know that Shadow was not entirely out of their mind.

“Didn’t I?” Sonic said. “Sorry about that. It’s been a while since I made a new friend, guess I’m rusty. I’m Sonic. It’s nice to officially meet you, Shadow.”

“Sonic,” they said in a low voice that Sonic felt more than he heard. “Sit with me.”

Sonic was halfway across the room before he could think twice. He paused only to dig another blanket out of a basket by the fireplace. The bulky fabric was ever so slightly uneven; it was easy to imagine someone sitting in this very chair as they knitted, bringing something new and precious into the world with each stitch. As Shadow dragged him into the chair, Sonic pulled it over both of them. It was impossible to feel guilty with Shadow tucked against and beneath him. Their arms slid around his shoulders, their fingers twining through his fur. Sonic wondered if Shadow was this affectionate with their real friends. He doubted it; they didn’t seem like the type to let down their guard in the absence of magical influence. Still, Sonic couldn’t help but indulge himself, just for a little while. He nuzzled his face into the fur on Shadow’s chest, his ear pressed against their beating heart. Between the blankets and the heat of Shadow’s body, Sonic could pretend that he was basking in the sun.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonic is very difficult to hate. It was only a matter of time before Shadow stopped trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice that the rating has changed! Yes, Sonic and Shadow finally bone down. It's what they deserve. Note the lack of dub-con warning; as much as I personally love the idea of a vampire having their wicked way with a needy thrall, that's not Sonic's jam. Only explicit consent between rivals who love each other in this story (but if you are hoping for some mind control shenanigans, well, I have some things planned that I think you'll like ;3 ).

Sonic could have drifted off to sleep, but that would have meant dreaming instead of listening to Shadow purr. The sound was so low and soft that Sonic might not have heard it at all if he hadn’t lain quietly for a long while, his head tucked under Shadow’s chin. It was with surgical caution that he wriggled out of Shadow’s arms, leaving the drained hunter to sleep. It would be best not to be too close to them when the thrall wore off. Sonic didn’t go far, but instead sat on the floor with his knees curled to his chest. As he waited, he coaxed a fire to life in the fireplace, then watched hypnotized as the flames cast the lodge in a sultry, flickering glow. An hour or so later, he heard Shadow’s purr fade into the crackling quiet. Then they shifted as sleep fled from them, replaced by the slow dawn of clarity.

Sonic peered back over his shoulder as Shadow sat up, stretched their arms far above their head. They yawned like a cat, scrunching their eyes shut and letting their mouth fall open as if they couldn’t wake up without first showing all of their teeth. Sonic bared his own fangs in a fond smile, and couldn’t help but say, “Welcome back, sleeping beauty.”

Shadow’s eyes flew open. Upon seeing Sonic, they wore the expression of one who had been plunged into frigid water. It came as no surprise when, the moment they regained their wits, they lunged for their shotgun. Sonic was faster, and snatched it up before Shadow could finish untangling from their blanket cocoon. “Don’t even start,” he said.

“Give it back,” Shadow growled. It was difficult to be intimidated by someone whose legs were still wrapped up in fur and tweed, but to their credit, Shadow no longer showed even a hint of fear at being at Sonic’s mercy. They might still attack with their bare hands, and as fun as that might be, Sonic had other plans.

“Only if you promise to play nice,” he said.

Shadow gritted their teeth, their ear twitching in a sign of irritation that Sonic had grown to cherish. Their hand crept into their jacket, where their knife remained strapped to their chest. “Don’t,” Sonic said sternly. “I’m stuck in here until sundown, and I don’t want to wreck the place. Let’s call it a truce, yeah?”

Shadow hesitated, their eyes flitting from side to side as they took in their current situation. The cozy lodge was ill-suited for a fight. They were more likely to break furniture and put new bullet holes in the taxidermy than accomplish anything. Sonic noted with a flutter of warmth that Shadow’s eyes did not linger on the curtains. It would be easy for them to throw open the windows and let the sun finish what they had started, but of course Shadow had never been looking for an easy fight. Still, their hand rested on the hilt of their knife.

As the moment stretched on, Sonic’s lips curled into a fanged grin, saccharine and smug. “I mean, if you’re that eager for another beatdown, I’m happy to help.”

Shadow’s low growl sent a shiver down his spine, and for a moment Sonic desperately wanted them to take him up on the offer. Instead, they let go of the knife and straightened out their jacket. “A truce,” they agreed. “Until sundown, but only if you wipe that smirk off your face.”

Sonic didn’t even try to stop smiling, but Shadow was momentarily appeased when Sonic handed over the shotgun. They examined it hurriedly, not unlike a parent making sure their rowdy child had not been injured during play. Sonic bit his lip to keep from snickering as he rose to his feet.

He wandered out of the main room, partly to give Shadow a moment to get their bearings, but also because something had occurred to him during their conversation. The lodge had a utilitarian kitchen, and a few things remained in the pantry, left behind by the previous residents. Climbing on the counter, he found a tin of coffee up on a high shelf. He gave the ancient grounds a sniff, wincing at the strong smell. He couldn’t tell if they were spoiled, or if coffee was simply unappetizing to him these days. Compared to Shadow, limp and shuddering in his arms, most things were. Sonic set a pot of coffee to brew, reasoning that Shadow would know to steer clear if it smelled funny. Then he retrieved a can of beans from the pantry; the aluminum was dented and dusty, but unbroken. This can looked like it could survive the apocalypse. With this precious cargo in tow, Sonic returned to the fireplace.

The knitted blanket was folded and set aside, but Sonic noticed with a flicker of pride that Shadow still seemed quite comfortable curled up on the plush pelt they’d shared that morning. Taking advantage of the tentative truce, they had their gun partially disassembled, and they polished each piece with meditative care. Their ears swiveled to keep track of Sonic, but otherwise they did not seem to notice until he returned to crouch by the fire. Their eyes settled on the can, and their mouth twisted into a now-familiar sneer.

“Can you even eat real food?” they said, as if pointing out some vast oversight, one they couldn’t believe Sonic was stupid enough not to consider.

“It’s for you, dipshit,” Sonic said, and the flustered shock that Shadow failed to clamp down was better than television. They turned back to their shotgun, furiously avoiding Sonic’s gaze, until he added, “Hey, give me your knife.”

“Fuck right off,” Shadow snapped. Sonic arched an eyebrow, holding up the sealed can, but Shadow didn’t cave. It took several seconds of Sonic trying with spiteful clumsiness to tear open the can with his fangs and claws. He was almost successful when Shadow snatched it out of his hands, drove their knife beneath the lid, and carved it open the rest of the way.

“Thanks babe,” Sonic purred, grinning innocently as he watched Shadow weigh the benefits of their truce against the satisfaction of knocking some sense into him. While Shadow barely resisted their more violent urges, Sonic set the mangled can a short distance from the glowing coals.

The silence was not unpleasant, but Sonic soon grew bored without a soft purr to lull him to patience. He voiced the first question that popped into his head, without regard for the likelihood that it might start a brawl. “Kill any vampires lately?”

Shadow’s suspicious glare burned as hot as the coals, but Sonic didn’t back down. “No,” they finally said. “You’re the first I’ve encountered in several years.”

“Weird career choice,” Sonic said. “Hunting something you almost never see.”

“It wasn’t a choice.” There was something in Shadow’s voice that made Sonic’s gut twist, but he didn’t let his smile falter.

“Oh, do I get to hear the tragic backstory?” he said. “Hell yeah, give it to me. Make it hurt.”

He’d meant it as a joke, and so he was wholly unprepared when Shadow said, “The first vampire I met killed my sister.”

For the first time since meeting Shadow, Sonic felt the dread chill of the grave freeze his heart. His smile vanished without a trace, replaced by mourning that he couldn’t hide, that he nearly couldn’t handle. “Sorry,” he said, his voice soft. “That’s…” He didn’t have the words, and he didn’t try to find them.

Shadow met his gaze for a moment, then looked away. “You couldn’t have known,” they said, cool but not harsh. It was the kindest thing they had said without the influence of Sonic’s thrall, and Sonic was torn between guilt and yearning so intense he thought he was starving all over again.

Sonic didn’t try to start another conversation. When the liquid in the can began to bubble, sending off the syrupy scent of beans and bacon, he brought it away from the fire. Behind him, Shadow stood. They hung their reassembled gun on the wall and stooped to rummage through a backpack that Sonic hadn’t noticed on the way in, before returning to the chair. Sonic handed them the can, murmuring an apology when the hot metal made Shadow hiss with pain. He’d forgotten, for a moment, that Shadow would burn in fire but be warmed by sunlight, and in that moment Sonic felt aged and cold.

The moment passed, and Shadow wrapped the tweed blanket around the can before trying to touch it again. From their backpack they had received a spoon and fork made of scuffed steel. The spoon they used to stir the beans, before hesitantly holding out the fork to Sonic. “Can you eat real food?” they said again, but this time the question was sincere.

The smell of bacon and hickory seasoning filled Sonic’s mouth and nose. It was pleasant enough on its own, and he even remembered how heavenly bacon used to taste. Now, the smell didn’t tempt him, and the thought of tasting it made his stomach clench. He didn’t think it was simply because he had just eaten. “Nah, I’m good,” he said, waving Shadow off. “You go ahead. I’m not hungry.”

Sonic didn’t watch as Shadow ate. He turned toward the fire instead, resting his head in his arms and letting his attention drift. His vision was a blur of amber and gold, his ears drooping as the crackle of flames soothed his nerves. Normally he would fill the silence with song, melodies he remembered and words he made up, but he kept his mouth shut, fearful of disturbing the fragile peace. It was some time before Shadow took pity on him.

“I have so many questions,” they said. “You’re… an extremely strange creature, not least because you don’t seem to have any intention of killing me.”

A smile crept back onto Sonic’s face. He turned toward Shadow, resting his chin in one hand. “Go for it,” he said. “I owe you at least one for bringing up bad memories. Wanna learn how to kill me?”

“In time,” Shadow said. At some point, they had exchanged their beans for a mug of coffee. Sonic hadn’t even noticed them leave, or return, or throw their jacket over the arm of the chair so they could enjoy the blankets without overheating. They tapped a claw against the mug’s handle as they considered their first question. “Why doesn’t my magic work on you?”

“Not a clue,” Sonic said. “You probably know more than I do. I mean, the fireworks hurt for a second, but after that..” He supposed he didn’t need to explain to Shadow how energized he was in the aftermath of their blasts. Like a battery so overcharged it had to find some outlet before it exploded in a shower of light.

Shadow was frowning, but not with the simmering fury Sonic was getting used to. They studied Sonic intently, searching for any sign of dishonesty. Finding none, they searched even deeper, like he was a puzzle whose key could be found somewhere in the glimmer in his eyes. “Strange,” they said, half to themself. “Have you ever studied magic yourself?”

“Nah,” Sonic said. “Never thought of myself as the mystical type. I’ve seen plenty of spooky shit, but if you want to understand any of it you’re asking the wrong vampire.”

“Then how do you…” Shadow paused, averting their gaze. One hand rubbed absentmindedly at the bruise where Sonic had bitten down the previous night. Sonic realized too late that he was staring, running his tongue over the tips of his fangs. He wasn’t hungry, not right then, but he couldn’t help but stare. Not while the room was cozy and warm, and Shadow’s throat was exposed, and Sonic couldn’t tell if it was the firelight or blood rushing to their face that made their cheeks look rosy and flushed. He dragged his gaze away, meeting Shadow’s eyes just in time to realize that he had been caught staring. Shadow tiptoed over the next question, as if it too would bite him if they weren’t careful. “How do you enchant me?”

It shouldn’t have taken Sonic off guard. He knew how out of character it was for Shadow to sink into his arms, to moan as he drank his fill, to cling to him and purr as they slept. He knew how disorienting it was when the venom faded, but the memories did not. He didn’t envy Shadow the difficult task of reconciling the wilting thrall they became to the person they were of their free will. “Right,” he said, his ears drooping bashfully. “That’s not magic. Or maybe it is? No more magical than being a vampire, anyway. It’s a kind of venom, part of the feeding process. Makes people trusting, less likely to fight back.”

“I see,” Shadow said, their voice carefully even. Sonic averted his eyes, suddenly fearing what he might find in their expression.

“Yeah, it’s not fun. Kind of a slimy trick, I get it. But if there’s a way to feed without… enthralling people, I haven’t figured it out yet. Sorry.”

The silence lingered until Sonic couldn’t stand it. When he looked up at Shadow, they were staring into the hearth, brow furrowed in grave contemplation. Sonic asked if they wanted more coffee, then without waiting for an answer took their mug and fled into the kitchen.

Sonic felt Shadow’s eyes on him until he was out of sight. He poured a fresh cup of coffee, then stood in the kitchen, staring into the hot black liquid for what felt like hours. He didn’t want to sort through the turbulent thoughts currently tying his stomach in knots, and so he didn’t try. The warmth seeping through the mug and into his hands was a tether, frail but present, to the waking world. He took a sip of coffee, and winced as the bitter flavor filled his mouth. He’d never liked coffee, even when he was alive.

The tap of knuckles against the wall announced Shadow’s presence and kept Sonic from being visibly startled. He turned to see them leaning with one hand on the doorframe, trying and failing to appear confident and calm. It took a moment for Shadow to gather their thoughts—or their courage, but when they did they said, “I owe you an apology.”

At that, Sonic did startle, barking out a sharp laugh as if Shadow had suddenly mutated a sense of humor. The glare he received in return quickly shut him up, but the befuddled smile didn’t leave Sonic’s face. “Sorry, what do you have to apologize for?”

“I acted on the assumption that you were a dangerous predator, and needed to be exterminated before you harmed someone,” Shadow said. “If you are a predator, you must be completely inept. But I think it’s far more likely that you’re very kind.”

“Flatterer,” Sonic said, barely able to keep the giddy delight out of his voice. “Hey, for all you know, I’m a chessmaster and this is one big mind game. Did you think of that, smartass?”

“I’ve met newborn kittens more cunning than you,” Shadow said, without an ounce of sarcasm.

“That’s not hard to do. Those little furballs can be vicious.” Sonic thought, or perhaps hoped, he saw a smile tugging at the corners of Shadow’s mouth. He couldn’t have stopped smiling if he tried. He handed the coffee, now lukewarm, to Shadow, if only to feel their fingers brush against his.

“My point is,” Shadow said. “I’m sorry. For trying to kill you. I won’t bother you again after today.”

The spreading warmth in Sonic’s chest abruptly turned to ice as he imagined leaving this place, knowing that he wouldn’t see Shadow again. Knowing that he would have to face the endless dark, alone once more. Despite his best efforts, he knew that panic could be seen in his eyes. Without his conscious intent, he found himself saying, “You don’t have to never bother me again.”

Shadow’s calm rapidly crumbled into flustered confusion, and Sonic couldn’t help but laugh again, frantic and breathless. Not for a moment had he thought that his excitement at seeing Shadow had been subtle. He supposed that Shadow couldn’t be blamed for not expecting the vampire they were trying to kill to develop a crush. Then again, something told Sonic that realizing they were being flirted with was not Shadow’s strong suit. “Christ,” Sonic said. “Would it help if I started wearing a neon sign? I’m thinking flashing pink letters that say ‘I like spending time with you and also you have a cute face.’”

Shadow probably thought that their irate glare was evidence against their being adorable. Sonic disagreed. “Cute?” they said, as if they had never heard such wicked slander. Sonic burst out laughing again, and this time he didn’t stop.

“If you want me to resume trying to kill you, you’re doing a damn good job,” Shadow growled, and Sonic resisted the urge to swoon.

“You know,” he purred. “We have some time to kill before sundown. Wanna give it another shot?”

Shadow set their coffee aside and immediately forgot about it. They reached for their knife, still strapped to their chest. Sonic’s eyes lit up as they unbuckled it and set that aside as well.

“Can’t take these off,” Sonic said, gesturing to the points of his fangs. “But I’ll keep ‘em to myself. Don’t wanna draw any more blood today.”

“I should invest in a muzzle,” Shadow said, and although Sonic was not hungry, the eager growl that rumbled in his throat said otherwise. Shadow barely had time to drop to a defensive stance before Sonic pounced.

Shadow hit the ground with a grunt, only to roll, brace a foot against Sonic’s gut, and launch him into the air. He landed gracefully on his feet, his eyes gleaming with excitement, and when he lunged again Shadow was ready for him. Wrestling was not Sonic’s forte. He didn’t mind, so long as that meant Shadow was twisting an arm behind his back and pinning him to the wall. Sonic shivered from head to toe, and as soon as he recovered he drove his unpinned elbow into Shadow’s ribcage. Their grip faltered, and Sonic began to tear himself free, only to freeze as he felt Shadow’s teeth sink into his shoulder. It hurt, yes, but not a lot, and not for long, and the moan that tumbled from Sonic’s lips was not a cry of pain.

By the time Sonic regained his wits, Shadow had turned him around and shoved him back up against the wall. They clasped Sonic’s wrists in either hand, pinning them just above his head. Sonic huffed and pouted, but the effect was ruined by the eager light in his eyes. “So you’re allowed to bite and I’m not?” he said.

Sonic was entirely unprepared to see a predatory grin reflected back at him. “Correct,” Shadow said. Caught in their crosshairs, Sonic didn’t know whether to whimper or melt or go completely feral. Instead he leaned forward and kissed Shadow with bruising force.

Sonic felt more than he heard Shadow’s startled, shaky gasp, and it was as delicious as their blood. Shadow released Sonic’s hands in order to clutch his face, and Sonic wasted no time digging his claws into their back. The kiss was hurried and clumsy, and neither of them were willing to end it. Shadow, who still had the pitiful disadvantage of needing to breathe, only pulled away once they were seeing stars. They clung to Sonic as they sucked in air, their breath ragged against his throat. Sonic mercifully gave them a moment—not quite long enough—to recover before shoving them over the back of the chair.

Shadow was sent into an undignified sprawl, their legs still hooked over the cushions, their head tipped off the edge of the chair. Sonic leaped onto them, joining them in a precarious upside-down embrace. In the likely event that one of them fell, the other was going down as well, but then they were locked in another kiss and far too busy to find a more stable position. There was even less incentive to readjust once Shadow hooked their legs around Sonic’s hips, and then it wasn’t just the crackling fire causing them to overheat.

Shadow was getting very tired of having to breathe, and Sonic had no intention of waiting for them to get their bearings. He trailed kisses from Shadow’s lips to just under their jaw, and Shadow whimpered pitifully as they felt the menacing scrape of Sonic’s fangs. Instead of a bite, however, came the hot pressure of Sonic’s tongue. Shadow cursed, their voice a low rasp that increased in pitch each time Sonic nibbled at his pulse point. Lips and tongue worked in unison with needle-sharp fangs until the single bruise on Shadow’s throat had become a patchwork, but not once did Sonic draw blood.

A single moan of Sonic’s name sounded like a prayer, and then it was Sonic’s turn to moan as he felt Shadow’s cock unsheathe against his abdomen. He felt every inch as Shadow squirmed, hard and thick and hot, and Sonic was reminded of a different sort of hunger that he had long neglected.

He sat back on his knees, grabbing Shadow’s hips in a futile attempt to still them. Shadow lay helpless and debauched before him, caught up in a thrall that was less magical but no less potent. “How…” They licked their lips, then tried again to speak. The words flowed slow and sweet as molasses. “How do you want me?” Every which way, for as long as I walk the earth, Sonic wanted to say.

Instead, they rearranged so that Sonic knelt, bent over the back of the chair. Shadow draped over his back like a blanket, hands on his hips, lips mouthing at the hollow between his neck and shoulder. If a vampire’s bite felt half as good as the hickeys Shadow left, Sonic could understand why they moaned each time he drank from them. But it wasn’t enough, not with Shadow’s cock pressed hot and tantalizing in between his thighs. When Sonic rocked his hips, desperately trying to get it inside him, Shadow yanked on his tail until he squeaked.

“Shadow, come on!” he whined, too far gone to worry about something so petty as dignity and his reputation as the coolest of dudes.

“Next time we meet, I’m bringing a muzzle,” Shadow said, and it was supposed to be a threat, Sonic knew, but he couldn’t find it in himself to dislike the idea of being helpless in Shadow’s grasp, all his dangerous sharp edges blunted so that he only existed to please and be pleased… The mere thought had him trembling, and when Shadow reached down to stroke his cock he quaked.

“Are you ready?” Shadow said, the asshole, as Sonic felt his orgasm building until his thoughts were a frenzied haze. He didn’t realize that he was babbling, begging, until Shadow’s cock was spreading him open. Their heat inside him was like sunlight, and for a moment Sonic didn’t think he’d be able to stand it. With agonizing care Shadow rocked forward until their hips pressed against the curve of Sonic’s ass. Sonic didn’t fully hear what Shadow said next, only that it was soft as the glow of a campfire. Sonic came undone, and his thoughts and fears scattered like ashes in the wind.

Sonic drifted, limp and hazy and wholly content. Shadow curled against his back, their face pressed into his shoulder. Sonic took their hands in his, pressing kisses to each of their knuckles in turn, and they purred like a car’s engine turning over. The fire had burned to embers, and the faintly glowing coals were the only light as night fell. For a blessed moment, Sonic considered staying right here, making a home among the evergreen wilderness, but that was only a fantasy. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to stay a little while longer. He closed his eyes, knowing that when he left, Shadow would follow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonic and Shadow's growing trust does not put an end to the fighting, but it ensures that both enjoy themselves, regardless of who comes out on top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mixes porn and character development together like caramel and cheddar popcorn* One more chapter before November, which is National Novel Writing Month, during which this account will be a wasteland. At least it should be. I'm supposed to be focusing on a different project, so feel free to yell at me if I start updating Evergreen instead.

Shadow had learned a new magic trick. The electric green threads that wound around Sonic’s limbs did not give off the same intense energy that he was growing used to. A current ran through them, reinforcing them in time with Sonic’s struggles, but never flowing into him. The promise of a rush like lightning flashing through his veins dangled just out of reach, so long as Shadow maintained their focus. The helplessness was maddening as much as it was exhilarating, but that was nothing compared to the self-satisfied grin on Shadow’s face.

Sonic continued to squirm as he spoke, not out of discomfort or desperation, but because he couldn’t bear to sit still—not when each restricted movement was its own private thrill. “Past cool! Did you come up with this yourself?”

“I did,” Shadow said, unbearably proud of themself. “Someone needs to keep you from getting too cocky.”

“You like it when I’m cocky,” Sonic said.

“That’s not the point.” Shadow lowered to one knee, raking their gaze over Sonic under the guise of examining his bonds. The threads held fast, glowing a bit brighter each time Sonic strained against them. His hands flexed uselessly at his sides, his fingers aching to dig into Shadow’s fur. But they remained cruelly out of reach, their eyes agleam as they maintained the careful balance of the spell. Sonic would sell his soul just to be touched, but Shadow seemed to delight in his suffering. Sonic was only just spared the indignity of begging when they finally said, “I believe this means I win.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Sonic purred.

Shadow hauled him to his knees, and if Sonic had even a shred of shame he might have been embarrassed by how wet he had gotten. It wasn’t his fault; Shadow’s smiles were rare but affecting. Besides, if Sonic had a shred of shame, he might not have the privilege of burying his face between Shadow’s thighs, coaxing their cock out to play via eager, open-mouthed kisses to their sheath. There was no place he’d rather be. Shadow’s hands gripped his quills, forceful enough that jolts of pain added to the heat flooding through Sonic’s body. For all their effort to appear smug and aloof, it was not long at all before Shadow gasped and muffled a moan with their hand. Their cock slipped into Sonic’s waiting mouth, and for a moment he simply savored it. How lucky he was, that his favorite hunter had so many flavors for him to enjoy. Shadow’s cock was not quite as sweet as their blood, but the moans they failed to stifle more than compensated. 

This part, Sonic was getting quite good at. He kept his fangs carefully tucked away and relaxed his throat, bobbing his head once, then twice, before swallowing Shadow to the hilt. There were benefits to no longer needing to breathe; all the better to enjoy Shadow’s ragged gasps, the nudge of their cock against the back of his throat. Their hips rolled in mindless thrusts, and Sonic briefly considered the benefits of letting Shadow continue to use him as they pleased. They had won, after all; the evidence of their victory remained tightly wound around Sonic’s limbs. Then again, a simple magic trick had never ended their contests before. Shadow should know better than to let their guard down, especially when Sonic hadn’t yet been fed.

Sonic pulled off, taking advantage of Shadow’s distraction to control the tempo. He dragged his tongue over the very tip, delighting in the shudder that crept through Shadow’s body. Sonic planted wet kisses down the length of their cock, and by the time he reached the base, Shadow was quaking with the effort it took not to fall apart too quickly. Sonic pressed his lips to Shadow’s inner thigh, teasing with delicate nibbles and a hot, eager tongue. Then, ever-so-careful, he let the points of his fangs dig into sensitive skin, not quite drawing blood. His reward was immediate. Shadow went very still, and Sonic could all but feel their heart leaping against their ribs. A single word tumbled out of them, a clumsy song that made Sonic’s head spin. “Please,” they said.

Sonic bit down hard, and Shadow’s rapturous moan was every bit as delicious as their blood flowing over his tongue. He refrained from taking his fill, only drinking until Shadow crumpled to their knees—not because they were too weak to stand, but because to stand while Sonic knelt was too lonely to bear. The binding spell sparked and faded, leaving Sonic’s hands free to twine his fingers through Shadow’s quills and kiss them properly. They melted against him, heated and pliant, trembling with bliss. Everywhere they touched felt like liquid sunlight pouring into Sonic’s core, pooling between his thighs and making his body pulse with need. Shadow offered no resistance as Sonic shoved them onto their back; it was as if their feet were planted in shifting sand, helpless against the ocean waves that rocked them off balance. When the ocean was Sonic climbing over them, thighs tight around their hips, his eyes shining with ravenous love, drowning was the most perfect paradise.

Lips parted, chest heaving, eyes dark and dazed, Shadow was ruined—and Sonic had barely begun. Each motion of his hips, grinding his hot sex along the length of Shadow’s cock, dragged broken sounds out of both of them. Shadow, wrapped up in Sonic’s thrall, made no effort to cling to their dignity, and their lack of shame was contagious. All that kept Sonic from sinking fully onto them and riding like it was what he was made for was the sweet temptation of hearing Shadow beg. Even then, he was not in the mood to tease. It was difficult to tell which one of them was more spellbound, when all Sonic wanted was to feel Shadow touch every part of him. 

His fingers twined with Shadow’s, giving up the illusion of pinning them down. Shadow gripped his hands with bruising force, rolling their hips in wordless pleas for mercy. Sonic didn’t try to resist, nor did he stifle the moan that tumbled from his lips as he sank down onto Shadow’s cock. Heat radiated from each point of contact, inside and out, until Sonic felt as if he was burning up from within. Each movement only drove him further out of his mind. Shadow rocked their hips upward, making a valiant attempt to fuck Sonic properly despite the vice grip of his thighs pinning them. The press of their pelvis against Sonic’s swollen cock more than made up for their inability to pound him until he screamed. Sonic took care of the rest, lifting himself up and sinking back down, savoring each drag of Shadow’s dick against his sweet spot. His thighs flexed as he fucked himself, his pace frantic, desperate. Even as his legs began to shake, he didn’t slow, driven ever onward by Shadow’s delighted cries for more. And even when their climax made Shadow quake, even as they were left whimpering and overwhelmed in the afterglow, Sonic had no intention of stopping.

He was still going when something resembling clarity returned to Shadow’s eyes, when they gripped his hips and flipped over to pin him on his back. The sudden change of position made Sonic yelp, as every shift was a potent reminder that Shadow was still sheathed deep inside him—impossible to ignore after several orgasms had left him flushed and fragile in the best way. Even as the thrall wore off, Shadow was hardly in any better shape. Their scowl was undermined by flushed cheeks and eyes hazy with lust and exhaustion. “You’re a menace,” they said, their voice a ruined rasp.

Sonic grinned, all sharp teeth and debauched glee. “You gotta be more careful,” he purred. “You know you’re my favorite flavor.” An unwelcome thought made his smile falter, while worry shone through the cracks. “I thought you’d like it. Did…”

Did I go too far? The question was interrupted by Shadow’s lips on his. Sonic’s worries melted, his attention consumed by the hot tongue licking into his mouth. When the kiss broke, his smile was softer, but sincere.

“I enjoyed it,” Shadow admitted, but the gleam in their eye made Sonic’s heart (and dick) throb. “I’m also going to enjoy giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

“What—?” Sonic said, breathless and eager, as Shadow pulled out of him. They hooked his thighs over their shoulders and buried their face in between, and Sonic was delighted to find himself at their mercy.


	5. BONUS - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November is national novel writing month, and I'm working on a different project. For now, here are some NSFW illustrations. Regular chapters will continue in December, if all goes as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I wasn't going to update in November. This doesn't count.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Shadow has eased, but not put an end to Sonic's longing. Shadow makes an offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evergreen was supposed to be all sexy vampire fun all the time. What the hell is this... plot? Angst?? A happy ending??? Unbelievable. Jokes aside, this wraps up Wormwood, but this is not the last we'll see of Sonic and Shadow. In the next chapter of Evergreen, we'll meet someone new, and maybe learn a bit more about Sonic's tragic backstory. Until then, enjoy!
> 
> (FUCK I should have posted this on Valentine's Day, that would've been so sappy and cute. Oh well)

Sonic had forgotten how easy it was to get addicted to company. It had been a very long time since he had dared venture near the homes of the living. The worn sidewalk felt foreign beneath his feet, and a not-insignificant part of him was abuzz with nerves. A part of him yearned to flee into the wilderness and wait for Shadow to find him. No one else was safe to be around, not anymore. How could Sonic trust himself when the sound of a beating heart was enough to make him drool?

But he hadn’t seen Shadow in some time. Their last meeting had been well over a month ago. Sonic had lost count of the days, and he was growing so very lonely.

Sonic lost his nerve right as a stranger stepped out onto the moonlit sidewalk. Before said stranger could see him, Sonic zipped around a corner and up a fire escape. In this little town, tucked into the pine-cloaked hills, the buildings were as worn down as he felt. Sonic was painfully aware of his bare claws, free of gloves that had wasted away decades ago; the holes in his shoes where he had gotten used to feeling the dirt beneath his paws. The person passing below wore a heavy denim jacket with patches at the elbows, carefully repaired every time the fabric had worn thin. The scarf Sonic clung to was little more than a handful of cobwebs, stitched together with ancient thread and a prayer.

Sonic had gotten very good at ignoring a steady undercurrent of self-loathing. If he felt at all guilty about what he did next, he simply didn’t think about it. If the temptation to think about it became too much, he told himself that he would be far more frightening as a naked vagrant than a clothed one. He didn’t want to frighten anyone, after all.

It was easy to find an unlocked window in a place like this, where neighbors didn’t steal and trust was baked into every brick. Sonic was in and out in the blink of an eye, a red flannel shirt wrapped around him. His unpracticed claws fumbled with the buttons, but at least he didn’t feel quite so cold. If only he also felt less like a stranger.

Hands shoved in stolen pockets, Sonic dared to return to the path below. Too late, he realized that the street was not as empty as it had been a moment ago. Sonic froze as an elderly couple approached. She was wrapped in a knee-length coat and no less than three scarves, he resembling a turtle in a bulky knit sweater. But they were warmed inside and out by his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist. Sonic already felt lost, and now he felt like an intruder. As if to prove him right, the pair stared at him for just longer than was polite. The lady’s mouth curved into a concerned frown, while her partner leaned down to whisper in her ear. A punch in the gut would have hurt less.

A treacherous voice in Sonic’s head guessed at their age; despite appearances, not much older than he was. His stomach twisted, and not just with hunger. He turned to keep walking.

And then he was stopped in his tracks as the lady said, “Where’re you headed, stranger?”

Her tone was not hostile, but her warm smile looked to Sonic like the headlights of oncoming traffic. Old habit had him smiling back, although it did not reach his eyes. “Just passin’ through,” he said.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen a new face in town,” the lady said. “We were just heading on home for dinner. You’re welcome to join us if you’re hungry, or feel like making some new friends.”

They had no way of knowing just how hungry Sonic was, and for a moment he longed to take them up on their offer. But no matter how he tried to think of a home-cooked meal and conversation with a pair of kind strangers, such thoughts were drowned out by the siren song of two living heartbeats.

Sonic’s mouth watered as he shrank away. Let them think he was shy or proud or unwilling to oppose, so long as they kept their distance. “Thanks, but no thanks,” he said. “I can’t stick around for long.”

Before Sonic could flee, the man took a step toward him, digging around in a beat-up leather wallet. He didn’t smile as bright as his partner, but there was warmth written into each wrinkle of his face. He pressed a twenty into Sonic’s hand. “Safe travels, then,” he said. “Don’t stay out in the cold too long.”

Sonic opened his mouth to protest—how could he explain that he had no need for money? But his inhale brought in the scent of blood, hot and close and overwhelming his senses. His self-control threatened to falter next. He could barely force out a word of thanks before scrambling away.

For an agonizing moment, Sonic’s vision was clouded, a crimson haze blocking out all but the distant glow of streetlights. For a moment, he thought he was imagining the lazy strum of a guitar. When the sound didn’t fade, he clung to it, pulled toward the melody as if by a lifeline

Main Street was sparsely populated, with all but the hardiest or the lost driven inside by the cold. Sonic kept his distance from the other stragglers, but there was one pair he couldn’t stay away from. Bathed in the light of a street-lamp were two musicians. The first sat with a guitar cradled in his lap, singing sweetly over the strings’ gentle harmony. His partner stood over him, swaying in time with the stroke of their bow across a violin. The guitarist’s sang poetry crafted with care, but the violinist seemed to improvise, responding to the lyrics as if the two were engaged in conversation. Although they were performing for any who walked by, the music itself was intimate, would be just as heartfelt if it was only the two of them playing for and with each other.

There were others who stopped to listen, a few who dropped a dollar in the open guitar case at their feet. But as others in the shivering audience retreated, one-by-one, to the bar down the street, Sonic remained entrance. He leaned against a brick storefront, his eyes drifting shut, his foot tapping to the languid beat. Bit by bit, the electric anxiety in his body fizzled and faded. He could have stayed there forever. He might even tell himself that he was happy, perhaps, to listen but never approach.

Sonic didn’t hear another traveler emerge from the bar, but he heard footsteps as they approached, felt Shadow’s arrival like the first light of dawn. Sonic’s eyes flew open as their hand came to rest on his shoulder. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Shadow said. “Is everything alright?”

It was now. Sonic couldn’t stop grinning like a fool. He wanted to grab Shadow and squeeze until their bones creaked. He wanted to bite down and drink deep and slow, to ensure that his beloved tasted just as sweet as he remembered. Sonic had gotten awfully clingy in their absence, it seemed, and now the first whiff of Shadow’s scent was enough to drive him mad.

“Long time no see,” Sonic said, trying (and failing) to sound chill. “I was worried you’d found another vampire.”

“No,” Shadow said. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. My uncle found himself, quite suddenly, in the hospital.”

“Oh shit, Shadow, I’m real sorry.”

Shadow held up their hand, stopping Sonic mid-thought. “Don’t be,” they said. “He’s recovering well, and will be back to his usual antics soon. Also, he’s an asshole. Do not feel sorry for him.”

Sonic broke into a laugh, shaky but sincere. He leaned toward Shadow, bumping them with his shoulder. “Family, huh? Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.

There was an absence that echoed between them. Sonic knew very little about Shadow’s history. Shadow knew very little about his. Both of them knew the ache of loss, but in each other’s company it didn’t taste quite so bitter.

“I wish you wouldn’t worry,” Shadow said. “I’m not looking for other vampires at the moment.” 

Sonic’s ghostly heart fluttered with new warmth. If he could blush, he would be burning alive. “Got your hands full already?”

“You are a handful,” Shadow said. Their tone was no less gruff than usual, and yet they may as well have been whispering poetry from a bed of roses. Sonic was delighted to be their handful. He leaned down to press a kiss to Shadow’s lips. They tilted their head up to meet him, one hand coming to rest on the small of his back.

Sonic sighed against Shadow’s mouth, then breathed deep. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to ignore the hunger that grew more intense with each passing second. He also knew that he would rather die than ruin the delicate peace.

When the kiss broke, Sonic didn’t go far, and Shadow didn’t let go of him. “Wanna get out of here?” Sonic said. “Find somewhere quiet, you can pretend to hunt me and fail, I have my wicked way with you, you know the drill.”

Shadow’s smiles were rare, soft, and impossibly precious. Sonic was getting used to noticing the curve of their lips, their eyes turning up at the corners, the ease of tension from their rigid posture. If Sonic had his way, he would rest in Shadow’s attention like a cat in a sunbeam, flat on his back and oblivious to all that wasn’t the warmth on his fur.

Shadow took his hand. “I know a place,” they said. They led, and Sonic followed, pausing only to drop a twenty in the performers’ guitar case.

Shadow brought him to a hotel a few blocks from Main Street. The key Shadow fished out of their pocket looked as old as Sonic was. In the privacy of the empty hallway, Sonic sidled up next to Shadow and rested his chin on their shoulder. Their thick leather jacket kept the cold out, but it didn’t keep the warmth of Shadow’s body from seeping into Sonic’s. It did less to conceal their scent. Even Sonic didn’t know whether the rumble in his throat was a purr or a hungry growl. Shadow lifted their free hand to scratch behind Sonic’s ears. “You can’t wait a even second, can you?” they said, affection poorly disguised as exasperation. They knew without looking that Sonic’s fangs were bared in a guileless grin. They didn’t stop scratching through his quills until the locked door clicked open.

The cramped room was ill-suited for a fight, unless Sonic fancied bouncing off the walls (or being pinned where he couldn’t wriggle out of Shadow’s grasp). An unsuspecting mortal was bound to notice the commotion. With any luck, they’d assume (correctly) that the thumping and snarling and breaking of furniture was just a bit of rowdy lovemaking. Sonic saw no reason to complain.

Shadow shoved him away just long enough to shed their hotter layers, and Sonic arranged himself on the neatly-made bed. The sultry pose he assumed did not match the shit-eating grin on his face. “Hey stranger,” he purred. “It’s been a while.”

“Clearly,” Shadow said. “Did you really miss me that much?”

‘Yes!’ Sonic didn’t say, or shout, or cry. ‘Because the winter wind cuts through me and you’re the only warmth I’ve felt in decades.’ Instead he said, “Less talking, more touching me. Get over here.”

He didn’t mean to leverage the force of his desire behind the last three words. They slipped out low and laced with magic, an enchantment that Shadow knew well. Their eyes glazed over with delight, and they were halfway to Sonic’s bedside before either of them realized what had just happened.

Sonic’s smile vanished as Shadow took their head to clear it. “Fuck,” Sonic said. “Shit shit shit, sorry! It just fucking slipped out, Shadow I didn’t mean to—”

Shadow closed the distance between them, cutting Sonic off with a hand pressed over his mouth. “Easy,” they said. “It was an accident. I understand.”

Sonic barely heard them over the sudden return of warmth against his skin. It was not the first time Shadow had covered his mouth in a hurry, a futile attempt to shut him up. Normally Sonic would respond with a playful bite, but the need spreading like a wildfire inside him frightened him into stillness. He gritted his teeth and kept his mouth shut until Shadow released him.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Shadow said. They sat down beside Sonic, so close that they would have no time to react if he pounced. Didn’t they understand the danger they were in?

“I’m not gonna starve to death,” Sonic said. “We can have our fun first.” He swung a leg over Shadow’s lap, looming over them with a grin made sharp by ill-contained bloodlust. As if he could remind Shadow what he was. Eventually Shadow would have to push him away, make him fight for it, remind him that Shadow, at least, was not a helpless piece of prey.

Instead, Shadow twined their fingers through Sonic’s quills and tugged him down for a kiss. It never occurred to Sonic to resist, even as the resulting heat made his body scream for more. He had to break away before he gave into the urge to sink his teeth into Shadow’s lower lip.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Shadow said. “But I haven’t slept in thirty hours. I would much rather skip to the part where you put me in a trance."

Sonic didn’t immediately respond, could barely process what Shadow was saying until they tilted their head to one side. They exposed their throat without thought, without care, all but inscribing a gilded invitation on their skin.

Sonic braced both hands against their chest and shoved. Shadow let out a startled curse as they were knocked flat on their back, but Sonic had darted away before they could come up swinging. Sonic pressed his back to the far wall, placing every possible distance between himself and Shadow. Sonic’s fangs were bared with feral hunger, but Shadow’s expression softened with fondness—and pity—no less painful than a knife in Sonic’s chest.

“Sonic, it’s okay,” they said in a tone of voice Sonic only ever heard when they were blissed out of their mind. He tried and failed to burrow through the wall behind him.

“No it’s not!” he snapped. “It’s not safe. You can’t just let me—Shadow, I’m so fucking _hungry_.”

“Then _eat_. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

“Me! I’m what’s wrong, Shadow! I don’t want to hurt you but it doesn’t matter what I want because all I can think of is drinking you dry, and you can’t just roll over and take it because you have to stop me if I go too far!”

Shadow slid off the bed, approaching Sonic as carefully as if he was a deer that might bolt into the woods. Sonic’s eyes flitted to the door, but he couldn’t bring himself to run, because there were people on the other side of that door who could never defend themselves against something like him. Because running would carry him away from Shadow, and Sonic was not ready to brave the cold again.

But Shadow had him cornered, and their gaze was scorching. Sonic shrank back until his quills carved into the cheap wallpaper. Still Shadow advanced until they could reach out and take Sonic’s hand. “When have I ever been able to stop you?” they said. The pads of their fingers seared the back of Sonic’s hand. Their index finger traced thoughtless patterns inside Sonic’s wrist, and he expected to see ash smearing his fur. “Every time we meet, I find myself entirely at your mercy. I invite it, over and over, because you are trustworthy. Sonic, I’m not in danger. Not from you.”

Sonic didn’t respond. He didn’t trust himself to open his mouth. Still, he didn’t resist as Shadow tugged him back to the bed. They sat, side-by-side. Shadow placed their hand, palm up, in Sonic’s lap. Sonic clasped Shadow’s hand in both of his, feeling their pulse as steady and slow as the sunrise. “Are you sure?” he finally said.

“Yes,” Shadow said. “And if you continue to deny yourself, you’ll find that I’m every bit as stubborn as you are. Drink.”

Despite himself, a smile tugged at Sonic’s lips. He lifted Shadow’s wrist to his mouth and obeyed.

Shadow’s blood flowing over his tongue was an immediate relief. Even more so was Shadow’s head coming to rest on Sonic’s shoulder. They were purring, muzzle tucked comfortably under Sonic’s chin. Sonic almost forgot why he had been so afraid. Almost. When he was sated, he dragged his tongue over the bitemark and sealed it with a kiss.

“I told you,” Shadow said, their words slurred but no less confident. “Even when I fight, you never hurt me. I don’t need to fight you every time.”

Sonic’s next words came carefully, lest he twist Shadow’s mind into telling him what he wanted to hear. “Do you not like fighting me?” he said.

“I love it,” Shadow said. “I love you. I love the way you challenge me, the way you never stay beaten. You’re magnificent, do you know that? I’d do anything to be close to you.”

Sonic could no longer blame hunger for the way his stomach clenched. He held Shadow with enough force to bruise, but at no point did they try to escape. A hot, callused hand gripped the side of Sonic’s face. Even wrapped up in Sonic’s thrall, Shadow’s gaze burned with conviction, and it took Sonic’s breath away. “It’s not easy for me to tell people that they’re special to me,” they said. “When your magic wears off, I don’t know if I’ll be able to say it clearly. You are _good_ to me, and you shouldn’t be afraid of hurting me, because you’re the only one I trust to watch over me when I’m weak. I’ll do the same for you, if you let me.”

Words failed Sonic. He could think of nothing to say that would describe the restless worry quieted to a murmur, the hope that made him want to dance. He wasn’t sure whether the tears spilling from his eyes carried grief or joy. He didn’t need to be. Shadow leaned in to kiss his cheek where tears slicked his fur. Sonic wondered if he had the courage to take Shadow up on their offer, knowing that it was all he had wanted for a terrible long time.

Sonic bowed his head, pressing his ear to Shadow’s heart, and let himself be watched over.


End file.
